Advance Wars: Mindgames
by BlackZeroDC
Summary: Sonja is tired of reading about the same strategists. What happens when she finds a tactician that history forgot? This is my first fiction, so please be lenient.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related or mentioned in this draft, except for the characters I thought up myself and that goes for the entire story; chapter for chapter. I am also not making any money off of it.

Advance Wars: Mind Games

Sitting at her computer, Sonja rubbed her eyes. Having read practically all of her books well over five times each, she was on the internet trying to find some new material to study. That was a task all in itself. She had studied virtually every great commander history had to offer, and was just now starting to feel incredibly frustrated that there wasn't at least one more battle to study. Suddenly, for reasons that she couldn't understand, she found herself looking over the Black Hole war archives. She was looking through scores of battles, many of which she had personally taken part in, when suddenly, a topic perked her interest: Black Hole- battles of the civil war. Civil war? Sonja never recalled a Black Hole civil war. She wasn't totally surprised: after all, Black Hole wasn't even on the map until the Macro Land wars. Feeling that she may have found what she was looking for, she clicked on the link. She was soon met with various war clips, databanks, image files, and a complete list of the commanders on both sides of the war. She began sorting through the list of battles until she found one that was right up her alley. Two battleships were escorting a large group of landing forces. However, they were soon met with an entire sector fleet. Two battleships escorting ten landers stuffed to the gills with tanks, infantry, artillery, etc. battling it out against three battleships, five cruisers, and five submarines. As Sonja watched the battle unfold, she was left speechless. The battleships began to attack the enemy ships: a suicidal move. Sonja paused the video and placed herself in the commander's position. Does she order a retreat, or use the battleships to act as a decoy as the landers make a desperate escape? She chose the latter option and unpaused the video to see if this was the course of action that the commander would take. Much to her surprise, the commander did neither. The battleships assumed attack formation and charged into the fight as the landers stayed back and watched as the battle began…

(Flashback)

"Enemies transmitting!" the comm. officer exclaimed. "We need to either retreat, or try to make a run past them," the C.O. Admiral Henson said. "But sir, our chances of a sneak attack are slim and none!" Captain Grant said. "Should we consult with the advisor before proceeding?" The admiral curled his lip and made a sound of displeasure. Henson was never a fan of having some hot shot tactical advisor telling him, a seasoned commander of ten years experience, what to do, but the situation did look very grim. At the very least, if the high command was displeased with his decision, he could pin it on the advisor. "Go ahead Captain." The advisor was not a social man, but had an amazing reputation, as well as nothing but good reports from the senior officer staff. He had a somewhat imposing figure, complete with the Black Hole Advisory coat. The long, black coats were part of the advisory uniform, and made the advisors instantly distinguisable from the rest of the crew. The advisor stepped onto the command deck and with a quick sweep of his eyes, summed up the situation. "Captain, would you mind bringing my student here? I would not want her to miss this lesson." The captain left with a nod. "I must say, this is quite a situation you are in Admiral. I greatly anticipate the opportunity of getting to hear how you successfully managed to not only miss an entire sector fleet, but also how you plan to express to the war committee you deepest apologies for minimizing our chances of a surprise attack and throw Operation Killjoy into a tailspin," the advisor said with a cold, calculating, yet calm voice. "Very well, I shall try to make the most of the opportunity that has unceremoniously presented itself. " The admiral made a perplexed face. "Opportunity?" By this time, the advisor's protégé had made her way to the bridge, dressed in a black coat similar to her superior. She, like her teacher, assessed the situation, and proceeded to tell the admiral in a very mocking tone, "Ooh, you are so busted!" That sent the admiral over the edge, and his pride began to get the better of him. "What opportunity do you see here?! All I see is a catastrophe waiting to happen!" The advisor picked up on his desperate attempt at reasserting himself. This made the advisor laugh mentally. The admiral was trying to stare him down. This only made him look even more ridiculous as the admiral was not aware that behind the dark shades, the advisor wasn't even paying attention to his ranting. "We have an opportunity to not only land our forces, but to eliminate one of their entire sector fleets." The admiral stared at him in disbelief. "You are not really considering a confrontation with those ships are you?"

"I see no other alternative. If we turn to run, they will shoot us in the back. We have only one choice: break through their lines."

"If you want to get yourself killed, then be my guest. I, however, will not commit some kind of honorable suicide for king and country. If you think that your good enough to take on this force, then we shall just see. I bet you don't even know who we are fighting."

"Very well. I hereby assume command of the fleet. You may consider your objections noted. To answer your question, we are fighting the supreme commander of the rebel forces, Lord Sturm. I recognize his deployment techniques. Now in order to put your reservations at ease, I shall tell you a few secrets that you should know about naval warfare. As I went through college, and the advisory academy, I was taught to identify structural weaknesses in war machines," he explained.

He then turned to his young student. "Now then, it is time to see how much progress you have made by learning from me. Tell me, what do you notice about the battleships and cruisers?" The young girl studied the ships for a while, trying to find the right answer. When she felt that she had found what he was looking for, her face lit up and she said, "The hull on the ships are angled so that they deflect battleship shells downward." A great sense of satisfaction swept over her when her superior smiled. "Very perceptive. What do you suggest we do now?" He said challengingly. She thought about the new question. "We should adjust the angle of the cannons so that it alters the trajectory of the shell so that it punctures through the top deck of the ship as opposed to bouncing off the angled sides of the ship's hull."

"Excellent. Now I know that the ammunition magazines and weapons locker of the Harrison class battleship and the Hudson class cruiser is located on E-Deck, corridor 12, and room 78B. Where that would be located would be right about … here," he said pointing to a part of the ship's bow. "Approximately thirty meters behind the front cannons. Firing control, this is the acting commander, we will be providing coordinates for you to target. Fire on my mark. Comm. Officer, transmit this information to the _The Shroud_."

"What good will targeting the ammunition storage do?" the admiral asked

"The enemy out numbers us by a considerable margin. By firing on the ammunition storage, we can level the playing field by destroying a ship that could normally endure all but the most perstitent of barrages, with only one well placed shot.

"Con., firing control. The cannons are waiting for your command"

"Turret one, target the command ship, Turret two, target the ship off the starboard bow. Turrets three and four, give _The Shroud _some covering fire. Comm. Officer, transmit the target solutions to _The Shroud_ and tell them to respond with targeting solutions of their own. This will prevent us from wasting ammunition attacking the same ships twice."

The student watched her teacher in disbelief. He took control of the situation with little difficulty. He seemed to have done this before. She held her breath as the thundering of cannon fire signaled that the battle against impossible odds began.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and I am most certainly not making any money off of it.

Chapter 2

The shells fired from _The Shroud _and _The Undying Storm_ hit home, and in a matter of seconds there was a magnificent explosion; the sound of the three ships' ammunition storage going up in flame. The supporting cruisers and submarines began to go on the offensive. Seeing this display of hostility, the crew began to lose the little confidence that was brought by the sight of the destroyed battlships.

"Now we shall deal with the next big threat," the advisor said. "The submarines will definitely pose a greater threat than the cruisers. Comm. Officer, could you get a lock on their ship-to-ship communicatons? If we can get a lock, we can get an idea of how they are being deployed."

"Yes sir!" the comm officer said. "What good will that do?" the admiral asked. "As soon as the submarines dive, we won't be able to hit them."

The advisor explained patiently, "True, we cannot score a direct hit on the submarines underwater. however, the shells are still dangerous underwater. Letting even one of them explode against the sub's hull could result in a breach. I can use this principle to our advantage by firing near the subs, forcing them to move where I want them to. In order to secure a shooting solution against ships such as the _Undying Storm_, the subs must be at a depth of no more than appprox. eighteen meters, or periscope depth. And in order for them to achieve a torpedo lock, they must be at a range of no less than eight hundred meters from the target. The ships cannons can easily reach eight hundred meters, and a live shell can reach depths of eighteen meters and still have enough force to penetrate a submarine's hull. If aimed properly, we can force them into groups at the surface with the ships cannons. They will pop up where we let them, then we destroy them."

"Sir, we have a lock on the enemy transmitions. The nearest sub is then kilometers out, bearing one-zero-five travelling at twenty-three knots," the comm officer stated. "They can't seem to decide if we are really taking them on, or are simply trying to buy time for reinforcements to arrive."

"No surprise there," the advisor said calmly. "These aren't your conventional battle conditions. Firing control, this is the con, prepare the cannons for another salvo and await my orders."

Both the young student and the admiral had an expression of shock on their faces. The crazy advisor was actually serious about engaging the enemy subs with just two Grenadier class battleships. The way he explained his plan made sense, but was just a little too farfetched for either one of them to really get behind. In all the time she had known and worked with the advisor, she had never seen him be wrong about anything; however, she had never seen him do something this drastic before either.

"Con: firing control. Awaiting firing solutions, sir."

"Comm officer, what is the heading and mark of the wolf pack?"

"Sir, the sub fleet is bearing zero-nine-three mark two-one-five."

"As I suspected," the advisor said. "Transmit the data to _The Shroud _and order them to open fire on my command."

The two battleships opened fire on the sub fleet, informally known as a wolf packs. As the advisor predicted, the subs began to congregate at the surface of the water. Shortly after being drawn to the surface, they were soon destroyed by a hail of cannon fire. Now that the subs were destroyed, there was only one group left: the cruisers. While the battleships were engaging the subs, the cruisers used this opening to close in on the battlships' positions.

"And now for the finale," the advisor said with a cynical grin. "firing control, target the enemy cruisers. You may fire when ready." The Battleships fired on the approaching cruisers, which were closing in on the ships at an alarming rate. Despite their best efforts, however, they were being decimated. Yet there was one ship that refused to die. The flagship _Liquidator _was just now passing under the _Undying Storm_'s firing range.

"Sir, we have one cruiser that made it through the barrage… and they are opening fire."

"Brace for impact. Bring the ship around bearing two-three-five. Aft turret three, target our unwanted guest and fire at will," the advisor instructed.

"Sir, that is too close for our cannons to target."

"If you aim the cannon directly at them, you can't miss at this range."

"Aye sir."

Suddenly, a blast rocked the ship. The cruiser wasn't going down without a fight. It had unloaded a missle into the battleship, cracking the hull. The advisor asked, "Damage report?"

"Con: Engine room. We are taking on water!"

"What is the extent of the damage?"

"Sir, we have leaks in aft compartment 6, G-Deck. I don't feel that it is serious enough to seal the bulkheads yet. I will inform you when it gets to that point."

"Understood. Firing control, what is the delay? Fire on the cruiser immediately."

As if on cue, the aft turret fired on the cruiser, landing a direct hit on the command deck. A second shot scored a hit on the ammunition storage, finishing the persistent off once and for all.

Well Admiral Henson, I do believe that we have won this engagement. If there is anything else you require from me, I will be in my quarters." He turned and looked at his student. "Did you enjoy your lesson today? I most certainly did." Words were not needed. The look in the young girl's eyes and the smile that streched across her face said it all. He was crazy...like a fox.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am not making any profit off of it.

This chapter is mostly dialogue, so if you want some more of the action found in the first chapters, you'll have to wait until chapter 4. I do appreciate your reviews, so please keep them coming.

Chapter 3

There was a knock at the advisor's door. "Enter."

It was the admiral. He looked as thought he was ready to burst: apologies were never his strong suit.

"Was there something you needed, admiral?" The admiral ducked his head and hid his eyes behind the brim of his cap. "Advisor, I need to apologize for my demeanor on the command deck. I was out of line."

"You need not apologize admiral. You were under considerable stress. And besides, I know you type."

"My type?"

"Do not take offense. I simply mean to say that you do not trust advisors. You feel that you, being a C.O., should not have to listen to advisors. You feel that you can handle any situation and you very well may be correct."

"Thank you advisor."

"Will there be anything else?"

"I was wondering how you know about Sturm. I have fought him once before, yet I can't help but feel that I have done so many more times than I think."

The advisor chuckled to himself. "Sturm is very effective at masking himself. His voice manipulator can take on any person. He can adjust his tactics from absolutely basic, to mind numbingly clever. However, when you understand a person's psychology, you can see their mind at work no matter how hard they try to conceal it."

"I see. Well, I should be going."

Just as the admiral was leaving, the young student was walking in. The advisor raised an eyebrow. "My, I seem to have quite a few visitors this evening. How may I be of service to you, Katrina?"

"How did you know that we could defeat them? How did you know how to destroy the battleships?

The advisor smiled at the young girl's amazement. "A Harrison class battleship is large, but very slow. The only tactical advantage to having them is their size. They are effective at intimidating your opposition. A Grenadier class battleship lacks the size, but has far more military capabilities."

"Why did you engage the ships? We could have out run the enemy and we were well out of firing range."

"Because he was watching."

"What?"

"There was a monitor station about ten kilometers outside the engagement zone. Sturm was taking video footage of the battle."

"Why, would he do that James?"

"He wanted to study Henson's tactics. He feels that Henson is a threat."

"But those were your tactics."

"Sturm does not know that. Nor will anyone else who sees the video."

Sonja was numb. She still couldn't fully understand what had happened. She just watched two battleships eliminate an entire sector fleet without losing a single lander, and did so without taking any serious damage. She began to break out into a cold sweat. She had finally found her new role model. She just needed to find who it was. She found a list of officers on the two battleships. She browsed through the names until she found a name that sounded about right: Admiral Henson. She was curious to find any advisors he may have had, in order to see if she could come in contact with them. They would likely know how to reach him. She began to download the video file and was preparing it to present before the commanders of the Allied Nations. There was a meeting in a few days, and she was excited to present the video to her fellow commanders. She began to furiously look for more information and videos featuring the genius of Admiral Henson.

"This meeting has now officially begun," Nell said in a loud clear voice. "I believe that Sonja has something that she wishes to share with us."

"Thank you Nell. I would like for you all to watch this video and tell me what you think of this commander." Sonja proceeded to play the video with the two battleships fighting the sector fleet. The entire room was filled with awe and amazement, especially when they saw the part where the battleships destroyed the submarines. Sonja couldn't help but see that Lash had a look on her face like she had seen this before. This didn't surprise Sonja; the file was in Black Hole archives. However, it went deeper than that. Lash seemed to have been there before. Sonja stopped her thought before they ran wild. Her excitement at having found this treasure must have been getting the better of her.

"That was a truly magnificent display of tactical prowess," Jess said. "What did you say his name was?"

"The Commanding Officer was listed as three-star Admiral William Henson. I looked to see if there were any advisors, and the list said that there was an advisor, but it didn't give a name." Lash scoffed. "Is there a problem?" Sonja asked.

"Have you seen any other videos with Admiral Henson? The guy is an egotistical moron. It's no wonder the advisor wasn't listed; that may draw attention away from him."

"Look at those tactics! Does that look like the work of an egotistical moron?"

Lash scoffed again. "Do you know anything about those ships? Let me educate you. Those battleships are Harrison class ships. They are huge, but nothing else. The submarines are a group of Balao class subs. These are state of the art, seventy-five years ago."

"What class?" Colin interrupted.

"Balao class."

"Playo class?"

"Bu-lay-oh"

"As I was saying," Lash continued, "the cruisers are a group of Hudson Class cruisers. The thought of them posing a threat to anyone is a joke."

"But didn't you see those tactics?"

"I have seen other encounters that Henson was in charge of, and he isn't worth the time it took to promote him."

"You say that as if you know him."

"You just go ahead and believe that he is the best you ever saw." Lash warned, "But don't come whining to me if you are bitterly disappointed."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything mentioned in or related to this draft, and am not making any profit off of it

I do apologize for misleading you guys. I had to put in more dialogue than originally suspected. If I had cut straight to the action, you would have missed some interesting plot points. I will get more into the battles in later chapters.

Chapter 4

There was considerable tension after the meeting, and the Green Earth commanders saw it best to retreat to their own conference room in the Green Earth wing of the AN Headquarters. Eagle and Jess seemed to have something on their minds. Javier decided to break the ice.

"That was quite an impressive display. But who is this Admiral Henson?"

"I really don't think that was Admiral Henson. There was something familiar about the deployment of the ships," Jess said thoughtfully.

"Agreed," Eagle replied. "I can't quite place it, but I do recall my father telling me something about a commander he worked with that was quite avid at doing the impossible. I can't remember the name, but I know where I can find it."

-----

"Admiral, we are approaching a monitor station. I am not detecting any weaponry, ships, or radar equipment." Captain Grant reported. "It doesn't make any sense to have a monitor station that isn't functioning."

"I don't like the looks of it. Captain, would you mind bringing the advisor here?" the Admiral asked. He seemed to have a new respect for the advisor.

The student was already on her way to the bridge. She had a sneaking suspicion that the admiral had found himself in another pickle. The captain had just left the bridge to retrieve the advisor. How pathetic. The admiral hadn't even had a shot fired at him, and he was already running to the advisor for help. She stepped onto the command deck and looked at the landing zone. Sure enough, there was a monitor station. How did the advisor know about this station? She didn't know about this station, and she had spent hours studying satellite photographs of the area. That, however, is why she was the student, and he was the teacher. She couldn't wait for the time when she would be the most respected tactical advisor in all of Black Hole.

"You needed something?" the Advisor asked.

"I wanted to inform you that we are passing an inoperative monitor station. I also wanted to introduce you to the commander of the landing forces. Ah, here he comes."

A young man clad in a dark brown field marshal coat had walked into the command deck. He had a very solemn look on his face.

"Field Marshall Hawke, I would like you to meet the man who got us here in one piece."

"It is a pleasure. I am to understand that you managed to subdue an enemy sector fleet lead by the very one who is responsible for this war. You must possess great tactical prowess to have defeated Sturm in such a short period of time." Hawke had a very skeptical look on his face.

This attack on the advisor's ego had no effect. The Advisor simply stared at him with eyes that were concealed by dark sunglasses. The advisor responded, "Perhaps I got lucky."

"Lucky indeed."

-----

As they reached the LZ, the advisor picked up on a disturbing detail: there were forces waiting for them on the shores.

"Well Marshal Hawke, it is time to see what you are capable of," the advisor said. Hawke proceeded to command the landing forces with the confidence and skill of the advisor. However, there was something wrong. The advisor picked up on something that bothered him. Hawke wasn't like Henson. Hawke was like…himself. And that bothered him more than anything. If he wasn't careful, he could lose control. The advisor shook his head, clearing his thoughts before they strayed too far. He was always in control. He had control at all times. The admiral, the field marshal, and even the executive commander of the war committee, Lord Von Bolt, were blissfully unaware of what was really going on. They were only allowed to do what he allowed them to. And the beautiful thing was that they never suspected what he was planning. And they never will; until it was too late.

-----

"Artillery, assume positions on the beach head and cover the tanks to the left. Don't allow a single enemy to get in their way. Tank unit seventeen, engage the recons in sector three. 305th infantry, capture the CP on the west dock." The beach spanned a very wide area and Hawke had decided to take the western half first. The dock extended out toward the sea quite a ways, making it easier to reach from his side of the beach. Taking the dock would also provide a clear landing zone for other landers. Hawke had been commanding the forces for three hours now, and seemed to be slowly, but surely making his way up the beach. The admiral and the advisor seemed to approve of his tactics. Little did they know that Hawke was operating under his own agenda. He had been ordered by the lord to monitor the situation. Meaning that it was his responsibility to ensure that the lord's plan went smoothly. The admiral had pledged his allegiance to the lord, but that allegiance was becoming questionable at best. The admiral had been making far too many mistakes for them to be accident; the sector fleet incident was just one of many. The advisor was another matter all together. He had made no pledge to any of the leaders, making him a liability. He was nothing short of genius to be sure, and he had exhibited much potential, yet there was something to his genius that made Hawke cringe. The advisor was a very cold calculating man. Even the most introverted personalities Hawke had known had possessed some form of emotion. Something that he could _read_. Yet that was not the case with the advisor. There was absolutely nothing readable about the man; from his perpetual emotional detachment, to his dark, imposing sunglasses that blocked off the view to his eyes. Hawke was certain that the advisor was acting upon his own interest, but without anything for Hawke to interpret personality wise, Hawke couldn't decipher if he was an ally or a threat, nor could he decide whether or not the student was involved in the advisor's doings. After the battle, Hawke would send a message expressing this concern to the lord. The lord was a wise man; he would know what to do.

-----

The story seems to be taking an interesting turn. If you have any questions about this draft that do not relate to spoilers, feel free to ask them in your reviews. I also apologize for any format errors. I have just recently put Office 07 on my computer, and Microsoft decided to be cruel and completely redesign the system, so I am having to relearn Microsoft Word.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Chapter 5

Lord Von Bolt was sitting in his office, when one of his aides walked in.

"Lord Bolt, I have a message for you."

"Thank you Kindle, that will be all," he said with a somewhat raspy voice. His lungs have been giving him more trouble than usual. They already weren't in the best shape: He had breathed in too many gases from the old wars.

It was from the _Undying Storm_; Admiral Henson's command ship. He opened the letter…and let it fall to the ground when he read it. There was a traitor aboard the ship. The message had not indicated as to whom it was from, or who the traitor was, but three men came to mind when he heard traitor: Admiral Henson, Field Marshal Hawke, and the Advisor.

Admiral Henson had given years of loyal service, yet had lately been making some mistakes. Mistakes that had cost them dearly. Could Henson be working for Sturm? The next name was Hawke. Hawke was a new recruit who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He landed the Field Marshal position because he had sterling reviews from other officers in the high command. However, Bolt was not familiar with the names on his review, which caused him to worry some. And that brought him to the last name on the list: the tactical advisor. The advisor was a very difficult man to understand, and also was not one to let someone in on his thoughts. He also wasn't from Black Hole. This made him all the more susceptible to bribery and treachery.

While this analysis didn't really help him decide who the traitor was, it did give him some names to work with. When the traitor made their move, he would be more than ready to nail them to the wall.

-----

The advisor was sitting in his quarters during the duration of the landing. He had been on the bridge willing to lend a helping hand to Hawke with the battle, but the young commander didn't seem to need his help. This caused the advisor some concern. They were battling Sturm again, and Hawke seemed to be holding his own against the dark lord. This battle would either make or break the insurrection, yet Sturm didn't seem to be concerned about winning at all. It was too easy.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Yes? Come in." It was the student.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked. "Aren't you going to oversee the landing procedures?"

"I am confident that Hawke has the situation under control"

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Go ahead."

"What the heck is going on around here? I feel like I'm missing something."

"I wouldn't worry about it. The Admiral, Hawke and I are prepared to handle anything that Sturm throws at us."

" Well, if you're sure… ooh! What's this? Does someone keep a diary?" she said with a mocking tone. She had spotted a black leather-bound notebook.

"Hardly," the advisor said with a smile. "This is actually a notebook that I used when I was in the service of Green Earth. You may not know by looking, but I used to specialize in weapons design and military engineering. That is how I knew where to target the battleships and cruisers. The Harrison class battleship seemed to be very similar in design to the Green Earth Juggernaut class. The cruisers used the same template as the battleships, which is why the ammunition magazines were in the same place. They have the same design, but the cruisers are more compressed. Think of it like a mini version of the Harrison class."

"So this notebook is where you keep your designs?"

"Exactly. Care to take a look?"

He opened the book and on the first page there was a massive tank. It had a gun turret with three huge cannons on it. Just above the treads were two smaller turrets.

"This was one of my first designs: the AA-219 Mega Tank. I designed it to serve as its own tank unit. Green Earth didn't seem to want to start production just yet, but said that they would reopen the file in a few years and see."

"It looks pretty awesome!"

"Here is another you may like. I was originally going to call it a bubble tank because of the shape of the body, but decided to call it a NeoTank. And here it is: the M-29 NeoTank. The body was actually built to deflect fire from Medium Tanks, and, to a certain degree, Rockets. The cannon was designed to shear through any armor that it hits. This means that the only effective way to destroy NeoTanks is use another NeoTank, a Mega Tank, Bombers, or very persistent indirect barrages."

"What is this?" the student said looking at a giant pipe.

"That is a Tyranium pipeline. I was looking for a more effective way to transport supplies. Green Earth wanted to keep the railroads clear for commercial freight trains, so I came up with the idea of large pipelines. "

"What is Tyranium?"

"Tyranium Alloy, or TA-38, is a special alloy that I discovered by accident. I was melting down aluminum, titanium, graphite, galvanized iron, and tungsten to mold into armor to see what defensive potential each had, when I spilled them into each other; don't ask how. When the metal cooled, it was indestructible. I couldn't even melt it back down to liquid form. So I decided to use this to coat the pipelines. It could only molded in to long sheets and tubes; anything more intricate, like say, tank armor and the metal would break down in to the four metals. Because of this fact, the pipe seams will need to be composed of conventional metals. I began prints for a pipe runner that would be able to defend these areas, but I never finished it."

"That's so cool! How do you know how to do all this?"

"I'm just gifted. Here is something that may peak your interest: a Point Defense Cannon and a smaller variant, the Tactical Cannon. I developed PDC's and TC's so that Green Earth Wouldn't need to waste time and resources defending certain areas. They could just build some of these cannons, and they would be able to suppress enemy movement."

"Do you have anything sci-fi in here?"

"I do have one thing. It was the project that sort of ended my career in Green Earth. It should be right around here," he said flipping to the correct page. "Project Ragnorok. I worked with lasers until I had perfected the designs until I had a laser powerful enough to burn right through the Tyranium alloys. I then began to go large scale, until I had a laser cannon the size of a distribution warehouse worked out in my notebook. This caused the commanders of Green Earth to worry about my loyalty to them. So, in order to neutralize the threat, I was 'honorably' discharged."

"Why didn't they use these weapons?"

"They were afraid of their power. They weren't ready for weapons of that magnitude. So now, they sit in this notebook. Wait, I have an idea. Would you like to design weapons of your own? It doesn't matter how unrealistic they seem, just work them out on paper, then you can worry about building them. If I can build a death ray, then I am quite sure that there is nothing that can't be built."

"Could I really do something like that? I mean, I have no engineering training or weapons training."

"You don't need to worry about training. Just have fun with it. Here, take my old drafting supplies."

He handed her a box with all manner of rulers, geometric compasses, protractors, and the like. He went to give her the notebook, but hesitated.

"Can I trust you to keep this a secret? You must tell no-one: Hawke, Henson, Bolt, anyone. There are things in this book that they must never see. From killer slime, to missiles that can destroy entire countries. There are things in this book that even I have to admit must never again see the light of day."

The girl smiled and with a wink said, "You can trust me! I'm a good girl."

"Excellent"


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Chapter 6

Two Days had passed since the landing had begun, and Hawke had secured the Western Dock and the Landing. He seemed to have Sturm figured out. The admiral was impressed. Hawke was handling the dark lord with the same ease that the advisor had. He must have studied Sturm like the advisor had. Perhaps they had worked together to defeat Sturm in the past. He had begun to wonder about how this battle would reshape Black Hole as they knew it. Imagine: a world without Sturm's ruthlessness, or a world with Bolt's age of prosperity? He took great comfort in knowing that he was on the winning side.

-----

The young student had left the advisor to pursue her new hobby, giving him a chance to reorganize his thoughts. He knew that Sturm would be planning something large scale after conquering Black Hole, but he couldn't decide exactly what it was. He closed his eyes and put his brain into overdrive. He knew that Sturm desired power. He also knew that Sturm wanted to have the world in his hands. However, there was a problem: Sturm was not a patient person. He would want the world yesterday. The problem that presents itself is that it would take Black Hole a long period of time to recover from a civil war. He would have to rebuild factories, cities, and economies. This would take Sturm longer to do than the lord would be willing to wait. So how do you take over the world in record time when you are still rebuilding your own country? Suddenly, it hit him: Blue Moon. Why do your own fighting when you can hire someone else to do it? It was true that Black Hole's economy was something short of spectacular, but Blue Moon's was significantly worse, yet somehow the military was impressive. Ten thousand Black Hole Dollars may not mean much here, but that money could go a long way in Blue Moon. And Blue Moon's current leader, Olaf, would probably be willing to lend his army's services for the right price. One major piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place. Now he had to figure out how Olaf and Sturm would manage to take on the world.

-----

Eagle had logged onto Green Earth historical records and was searching for the mystery CO. He had referenced his father's officer log to try to find a name. He believed that he had the name he was looking for.

"Admiral James Maxwell Seymour. He was the Admiral of the Western Fleet at the same time that my father was in command of the Royal Air Force. It says that he graduated with honors from the University of Stockport with a doctorate in Psychology, Engineering, and Genetics in only five years and had gone on to blow through the Royal Military Academy in roughly half the time it takes for the average recruit. He started out as a weapons designer, but was then moved to commanding tank divisions because of his ability to pinpoint structural weaknesses and design flaws in enemy tanks. This strength soon evolved to encompass any military machines: land, sea and air. After coming to this realization, he was appointed Admiral of the Royal Navy's western fleet. He remained in command for five years, and in that time, managed to receive three Gold Star medals, five Silver Star medals, three Medals of Valor, and also managed to become knighted for his impeccable and unyielding defense of the port city of Williamsburg. It says that he had nothing more than two battleships, and had defended against five battleships, two cruisers, and three landing crafts from an unknown assailant," Eagle said. "Wow, that's quite a history."

"I though t I recognized the deployment techniques used in that battle," Jess said. "I remember watching the battle in the Royal Academy. He was probably my greatest inspirations, and I had the privilege to serve in one of his tank divisions when he was an admiral. I got to meet him twice: Once when he awarded me with a medal, and the other, when I was promoted to Division Commander of his armored assault divisions. He came by and personally congratulated me on my promotion and told me that he had never seen such potential in a tank commander. However, I never saw him since, and had even heard that he was discharged."

"And for good reasons," Eagle said. "It says here that even while he was in command, he continued to design weapons of unfathomable power. The Administry of Defense was afraid to begin production in case he decided to take control of Green Earth. He was a genius of the military, yet he was very stoic, introverted, and in many cases, not regarded as the most trusting person in the world. Simply put, Green Earth was afraid of what he might do with that power given the opportunity, so they discharged him. Because of his accomplishments, and also a lack of any evidence proving that he was planning something devious, he was relieved of command, and honorably discharged: a decision that the Administry has long since regretted."

-----

Sonja was sitting in her quarters in the AN headquarters trying to understand what had happened. Lash seemed to be taking this on a personal level. She also wasn't the perky, childish Lash that everyone had grown accustomed to. Nell saw it fit to call a recess to let everything settle down before proceeding onward on this topic. She had logged on to the Black Hole site again, and was trying to find who this mysterious advisor was. She wasn't having much luck either: he seemed to have never existed. She did however find more of Henson's battles, and Lash was right. There was a glimmer of tactical brilliance trying to get out, but the admiral just didn't have what she was looking for. Her thoughts began to drift back to Lash and her reaction to the video. What was on the video to provoke such emotions from the her? Was there a friend who had died in the fight? Did Henson do or say something to her or someone she knew? These questions were starting to really bother her. She just had to know what was wrong.

-----

The advisor was just starting to figure out what Sturm was up to. He knew that, for the right price, Olaf would be willing to lend Sturm his armies. Not that Olaf was greedy, but Sturm definitely had enough money sitting around to really help Blue Moon get back on its feet. Now he had to decide on the execution of Sturm's plan. Then, like before, it hit him: Orange Star. Have Blue Moon launch an offensive on Orange Star. Orange Star will then counter this attack with an attack of their own. The world will see that both OS and BM are militarily active, and will be keeping an eye on both of them. Then Sturm will have an OS officer working for him "acquire" some OS military equipment and launch an offensive on one of the other two countries; Green Earth more than likely. Kanbei was a powerful commander, and just impulsive enough to not need any provocation to assume offensive positions. All he would need is to see that OS is hostile, and he will do the rest. But how does Sturm get an officer from OS to work for him? The OS officers were many things, but treacherous wasn't one of them. They were renowned for their sense of duty and loyalty; Sami being a shining example. There was only one alternative that came to mind: Cloning. In his days of Green Earth weapons design, he had worked in GE's top secret weapons lab located in the elusive Aberdeen mountains. In the Aberdeen facility, he had worked with other specialists on designing cloning technology. He had designed the cloning tanks, life support systems, and the special preservation fluids used in the experiments. However, one problem that neither he nor his associates had been able to overcome was the time span. There were other problems encountered by the system: limited intelligence, short lifespan, irregular skin colors, etc. The one major problem was still time. Growth acceleration technology was crude at best. According to their calculations, by acceleration the decay of carbon molecule found in the human body, they could shorten the process by thirty years; not exactly a speed record, but it was the closest shot in town. Sturm would use this clone and the acquired equipment to launch mock strikes against GE, who would in turn believe that they were under attack from OS. All of the countries turn on each other, meanwhile, amid the madness, Sturm builds up his forces. When all was said and done, there would be only one country standing and that country would be in no condition to fight Sturm. He defeats the final country and takes over the world by doing practically nothing.

"Sturm, you maniac, I'm onto you. And I'll be damned if I let you get away with this. If for nothing else, for my beloved Green Earth."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Chapter 7

Hawke needed a break from the action for a moment. It wasn't because of fatigue, but because there were a few things that he needed to get right in his head. He knew where he stood on the issue of Sturm, and about how the admiral felt about the dark lord, but he needed to figure out the advisor's perspective quickly. This was the turning point of the war. The beach led directly to a very wealthy and industrial section of Black Hole, well behind enemy lines. It would take Sturm a long time to get any serious forces to this sector, which meant that if they could secure the sector, they could very well break Sturm's back. But there were some very valuable pieces of equipment involved: Md. Tanks, Artillery, Mechs, and other things that would be dearly missed if they were lost. If the advisor wanted to deliver the coup de grace to the Confederacy of Black Factions, he could very well do just that in this battle. However, if he wanted to completely ruin Bolt's chances of defeating Sturm, he could do that just as easily. Hawke pulled out his Red 9 pistol from his coat pocket and checked the action. It was ready willing and able. If the advisor made any wrong moves, Hawke would deal with him personally.

-----

Personally speaking, the admiral was glad to have his army all to himself; not that he didn't enjoy the advisor trash Sturm's fleet and Hawke making Sturm's forces on the landing embarrass themselves. It gave him time to think. Anyone with a brain could see that there was some tension between Hawke and TA Seymour, but Henson couldn't be sure if they were being straight with him or not. He was convinced that there was a traitor on the ship, but he couldn't decide who. The advisor seemed to understand Sturm really well. Was he working for Sturm? If he was, he was doing a good job of hiding it. He had destroyed a sector fleet; something that must have hurt the rebel armies pretty bad. And what about Hawke? He was another closed book. He, like the advisor seemed to be proficient at handling Sturm. A message from _The Shroud_ brought him back to Wars World. He decided not to worry about the traitor. Gripping his uniform belt, complete with a .38 caliber standard issue revolver and a saber, he told himself that he could handle either of them.

-----

The advisor had finally found out about Sturm's game. He sat at his desk with his twin Luger pistols laid out. He knew that Hawke was working for Sturm; he reached that decision when he saw Hawke taking the beaches as quickly as he was. Sturm was letting Hawke work his way up to the stronghold overlooking the beach. When Hawke had "secured" the CP, Sturm would move in with more forces, capturing not only the admiral and himself, but also forcing a surrender that would break any chance of winning the war. The admiral wasn't in on it, but he wasn't exactly playing by the rules either. Seymour knew that things would turn ugly before it was all said and done. He loaded six magazines for his Lugers; three for each one. He was glad that he had his two best friends there to help him. At least they had never turned their back on him.

-----

The meeting had begun once again, and The C.O.s of Green Earth were excited about sharing their newfound knowledge with the rest of the committee. Nell announced that the meeting had restarted.

"I believe that Eagle and Jess have some information relevant to the matter previously dealt with," Nell said.

"After doing some research," Eagle said "we have found that the person whom Sonja was talking about." He pushed a button on the GE console, and a picture of a GE admiral. His uniform was similar to Jess' uniform, only it had an admiral insignia, and he was wearing an admiral cap and his signature dark sunglasses. Twin Luger pistols hung at each of his hips. The guns were silver with black handles.

"His name is Admiral James Maxwell Seymour. He started out as a weapons designer, but was soon given a commanding position due to his ability to detect weaknesses in military equipment and exploit psychological blind spots in enemy commanders. He has a doctorate in Engineering, which explains his technical knowhow. His psychology doctorate was useful in understanding and defeating enemy commanders. His training in genetics remains a mystery, though it was thought that he did some research in Bio Organic Weapons or B.O.W.s."

"Sounds like one seriously bad dude," Jake said.

"He does seem to possess quite a mixture of specialties" Nell said thoughtfully

"He had received several medals and had also been knighted for the defense of a major port city that the Queen had been visiting from a mystery foe. It was later concluded that they were more than likely mercenaries."

"So the dude is known as Sir Seymour?" Jake asked.

"No," Jess explained, "It's Sir James, or Sir James Seymour."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I'm a Dame, or a female knight. Why do you think Javier keeps calling me Dame Jess?"

"Because he's old school."

Eagle cleared his throat, bringing everyone back to the matter at hand. "At any rate, we have identified our mystery commander. Maybe now we'll be able to find where he is. If we do that, then perhaps he can share a few of his trade secrets with us."

Lash had been quite throughout the entire meeting, looking preoccupied. But now she seemed to be taking an interest in the way the meeting was going. "What makes you so sure that he's still alive?"

"Because he was only eighteen when he began his career as a weapons designer," Jess explained

"Seriously, that young?" Sonja asked. "He must be a true genius in every sense of the word."

"There is a word used to describe someone with such skill: Wunderkind. It literally means 'wonder kid' or child prodigy" Jess said.

Lash spoke up again, "Have any of you served with or under him? Anyone know him personally?"

"I served under him near the end of his career" Jess said. "When he was an admiral, he promoted me to the rank of Division Commander of his armored divisions. He also personally pinned a medal on my uniform and shook my hand. While he did this, he told me that he had never seen anyone with such potential, and wished me luck in my career. I still have a photograph of him shaking my hand, and I treasure it dearly."

"You served under him and didn't even know who he was?"

"He didn't give orders directly to his field commanders," Jess explained, "so there wasn't much face to face with him. He was more of a distant figure that you recognized, but never really knew. Nevertheless, I had seen his capabilities and I can honestly say that I tried to emulate his brilliance in my tank tactics. He was my greatest inspiration."

"So you didn't even know him. That's pretty sad. If I had anoth…ahem, if I had an opportunity to really get to know him, I would pounce on it."

"Sadly, I was never given that opportunity. About a year after I was promoted, he seemed to disappear. I heard that he was honorably discharged, but he still had many years of service left in him so I found it hard to believe. What I wouldn't give for the opportunity though."

-----

Throughout the meeting, Sonja was focused on the picture of the young commander. She was taking in every detail of his appearance. She tried to look into what type of person he was. There was no questioning his intellect, but was he a humble person? Was he a kind person? The dark glasses prevented her from looking into his eyes. Then she heard Lash's comment about getting to know him. _Did she almost say another opportunity?_ This puzzled Sonja, and she looked at Lash. _Do you know him from somewhere? A long lost friend or relative, perhaps?_ Lash noticed Sonja staring at her.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Sonja blushed as everyone turned to look at her. "Sorry, I was lost in thought."

"Admit it, you where just admiring my beauty," Lash said striking a pose.

"Well, I reckon I should be goin'" Grit said standing up. "Ole General back home has probably got a list of stuff for me to take care of. I swear, Olaf keeps me busier than a one-legged man in an ass kickin' contest."

"Agreed," Nell said. "I feel it is time to adjourn the meeting for now. We will meet next week to explore the matter further. Eagle, could we trouble you to spend your week trying to locate our new best friend?"

"It would be my pleasure. I would very much like to speak with him myself."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Chapter 8

The admiral was almost positive of who the traitor was. The advisor had been absent since the landing procedures began. Either the advisor was genuinely trusting Hawke to land the forces, or there was something that he wasn't telling everyone else. Well, he knew how to handle this. He knew what would bring the advisor out of hiding. Hawke had a very solid lead on Sturm's coastal defenses. However, the admiral could feel the winds of change blowing. And like any good Admiral, he followed the winds; he let them fill his sails. With a grin on his face, and a skip in his step he began to reorganize the assault. Time to undo days of grueling effort.

-----

Lash was entranced by the technological wonders that her mentor had created. She flipped from page to page letting it all sink in. After she had studied his designs enough, she decided to give it a try. She took a deep breath and cleared her mind.

"Okay, how hard can this be? I just think something up, and put it on the page. Like James said, if he can build a death ray, then I can come up with _something_."

She began to focus on something easy. But what was easy? She had never done this before. She didn't even know where to begin. _Tanks. They're big, square, and slow._ Working with this principle, she finally had an idea. She quickly began to draw it into the notebook. When she finished, she held it up to admire her work… and quickly set it back down and began erasing it. It looked like a three year old with a mild concussion had drawn it and stuck it on her grandmother's refrigerator. She needed something easier. _A Battleship. They're just big boats with a whole lotta guns._

"Battleships are more than heavily armed boats. You have to calculate propulsion systems, armaments, water displacement and don't even get me started on the targeting systems." James said knowing that she had forgotten that they were even on the same ship. She shrieked and jumped up out of her seat when she heard his voice.

"Don't do that! I am trying to reinvent war machines as the world knows them! I need quite to work!" She then realized to whom she was speaking and went pale…paler than usual."I'm sorry sir. It won't ever happen again, I swear!"

"For a moment, you almost sounded like a scientist. Is that the future of mechanized warfare?" James said looking at her first botched design. He raised his eyebrows over the rim of his glasses, gesturing an interest in the item. "It does show potential. However, I would work out some of the issues you have with the pen before going large-scale. I am feeling a lot of pain in this drawing." James said mimicking the psychic detectives seen on T.V. He turned and smiled. "I just wanted check on your progress. I'll be going now."

"Wait."

"Yes?"

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

"Psychology. I could tell that you were trying to think of any easy subject to get started on. I calculated that the thing that would most likely come to mind would be a battleship. There were a few subliminal suggestions that would make you think of it. First, you are on one now. Second, the rocking motion of the waves reminds you of the battle I had commanded with this battleship earlier. And finally, you have been around them, so you feel that you know all about them" James smiled. "It was once said that more experts are born from thirty minute documentaries than are those who dedicate a lifetime of study."

"Could you teach me that little trick? I'd love to be able to read minds!"

"I wasn't reading your mind, but simply analyzing common human though patterns under similar circumstances. I found the one that best fit, and hoped that I was right. That is the price of psychological analyzation: you either guess right, and impress everyone or you guess wrong and make a complete fool of yourself."

"I see."

"Well, good luck with your designs."

-----

"Hawke please report to the command deck."

Hawke shook his head; either things were going horribly, or things were going well. He laughed at the thought of things going well with the admiral around. He left his quarters and headed for the command deck, passing the young student's room. He could overhear him explaining something about psychology to the little girl. The advisor seemed to be getting quite close with his little protégé. He finally made it to the ship's bridge, and was greeted with a very bad sight. All of the work that he had done for the past five days had gone down the tubes.

"What the _hell_ happened here? I had asked you to keep an eye on the battle for only three hours!"

The admiral turned to face him and had a look of distress on his face.

"There were some enemy reinforcements that came in about thirty minutes ago. I wasn't expecting them, so they managed to get the drop on me."

_The lord never said anything about reinforcements. I was to take control of the landing zone, push all the way up to the beach's fortress, and then hold my position in order to meet up with the lord's __forces. Could__ he be changing his plans without telling me? Why wouldn't he tell me about reinforcements?_

"What do you want to do?" the admiral said interrupting Hawke's thoughts.

"There is nothing else we can do but try to take the LZ back. Go get the TA; I'm going to need all the help I can get."

-----

Jess, Eagle and Javier had just gotten back to Green Earth Headquarters after an exhausting eight-hour plane ride. They deboarded and headed for their respective offices. Jess sat down at her desk and looked up at the picture on the wall to her left. _What happened to you? Where did you go? What did you do? Where have you been hiding all these long years?_ She thought on how the AN would ever be able to pinpoint his location; she had heard about captains that searched their own ships for hours and never found him. He seemed to be proficient at disappearing when he wanted to. Then she thought about his log book. Commanders were required to keep record of all things that happened on duty. This was so that the records could be modified into training exercises for future recruits. However, many commanders used the logs to record personal diaries and journals just as she did. Maybe he kept personal information in his computer logbook. Since he was discharged, his personal office was in a practically abandoned part of the building. Because of this, it was essentially undisturbed. She doubted that GE would have wiped the computer clean because of the wealth of information it possessed; his logs should be intact.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Chapter 9

The battle was starting to take a turn for the better after the advisor arrived. It was amazing what happened when you got a person who knew what they were doing in command.

"Firing control, target sector five-two-three mark zero-one-four. 15th armored division, engage the mechanized units to the northwest." Seymour had done in forty-five minutes what had taken Hawke and Henson three days to accomplish. His knowledge of the unit's weak points definitely had an impact. "261st infantry, target the light recons front grill. The bullets will sever the various hoses and lines running in the main engine, rendering them useless. 17th artillery division, fire on the heavy armor divisions to the west."

The battle was going smoothly, when a bomber was sighted over the hills at the top of the beach. This made Hawke and the admiral nervous.

"Where did he come from? I don't recall any airfields in this sector," the admiral said. "Do they have any underground airports? Is that a seaplane?" The craft's droning engines could be heard over the fanfare of the battle on the shores.

"No, he has flown in from one of Sturm's monitor stations," Seymour said. "The nearest one with an airfield is about one hundred twenty kilometers away. He has been in quite a hurry. Listen to the tone of the engine: that is the sound of an engine that has been running hard for at least an hour."

"Its origins are irrelevant" Hawke said. "We do not have the means to destroy it. What do you suggest?" he asked the admiral.

The advisor turned to look at him. "We have the means to destroy it."

The admiral and field marshal both looked at him and said in unison, "What did you say?"

"If we have a supersonic rifle, then we have the means to destroy it. Captain, would you send someone to my quarters? I should have an M1 Garand in there. Please have someone bring it to me." He turned to explain to the other commanders as the captain had sent an officer to retrieve the rifle.

"That particular bomber model is a B-48 Hell Bat, or also known as the 'Wings of the Abyss' model. The cockpit, bomb bays, and engines are encased in armored plating making any conventional attack on any vital systems ineffective. However, the plane does suffer from one weakness. The fuel tanks are built into the aft fuselage; an area with only minimal enforcement."

"You're going to target the fuel tanks?" Hawke interrupted. "I am sorry to tell you this, but that won't do any good. Fuel tanks that explode when shot are the things of action movies. Real bullets don't spark when they hit metal."

"You are correct," Seymour conceded. "However, that was not my plan. If you notice, the engines are located on the wings. Common sense should dictate that there has to be some means of getting the fuel from the aft fuselage to the engines on the wings. Now the Wings of the Abyss have one prime weakness: the wings are not reinforced. A well placed shot can fly right through them. The fuel lines have to run through the wings in order to get to the engines. If I can sever one of the lines approx. three decimeters from the engine on either wing, the fuel will bypass the injectors and flow directly into the jet engine. The fuel will ignite and the fire will flow back through the lines into the tanks, igniting the entire fuel reservoirs. This will result in a magnificent and satisfying explosion."

An officer entered the command deck sporting a finely crafted Garand rifle. Seymour took the rifle and went out a side door that led to a balcony just outside the command deck's large windows overlooking the ship's bow. He held the rifle to his shoulder and took careful aim. A single shot rang out, then… nothing. He stepped back into the bridge and waited.

"You missed," the admiral said.

"Give it time."

"But…" The admiral was interrupted by a loud explosion. The entire back half of the plane was blown completely off and the bomber began to spiral back towards the ground.

"Your lack of faith caused you to miss a truly satisfying sight," the advisor said to the admiral. "One thing you should both know," he said staring them down with the ever so intimidating glare of the sunglasses, "is that I never make mistakes. Ever."

-----

Jess passed through the large double doors that led to the older part of the Headquarters. This part of the building was mainly a tourist attraction and served historical purposes mainly. However, parts of the building were not included in the tours and were used as storage and archives. She remembered these halls well: this was where she had started her career. It had been a long time since those days, and she welcomed the nostalgia that came with the change of scenery. She couldn't believe that she had never been back here since the new offices were completed; some of her best memories were in these halls. She went from hallway to hallway until she found the right one: Corridor Twelve. This was where the offices of the finest commanders in Green Earth were located a long time ago. She went through the double doors and started down the hallway, scanning for the nameplate of her ex C.O. She was having trouble remembering the location seeing as the admiral, err, Sir James always seemed to be annoyed by visitors when in his office or quarters. Because of this, she never really came back here. In fact, she rarely even saw him. He wasn't one to meet with people too low on the chain of command. It wasn't because he was snobby and considered it condescending; it was because he was always busy. No one other than the people who served under him knew this, but he spent more time saving other officers from humiliating defeats than he did maintaining his own forces. She came up to the room she was looking for: SEYMOUR, ADM. JAMES M. She opened the door and walked into an office that literally took her breath away. The walls were decorated with racks and racks of finely crafted guns. Ruger, Springfield, and Colt firearms lined the walls. _I didn't know he was a gun enthusiast. What else do I not now about my own C.O.?_ She walked over to his solid oak roll-top desk and looked at the computer. _Geez, what an antique. I wonder if it will even start up._ She hit the power button and the computer began to boot up. After a few minutes, a snail's pace compared to her computer, the main login screen came up; it required a user name and a password. Now she knew that there was very delicate information on the computer, and Adm. Seymour was a very cunning man when it came to concealing information, so she suspected that trying to access his computer could quickly become personal. However, she knew that her C.O. was also guilty of using the names of his subordinates as passwords to various files and archives that he had; they were probably easy to remember, and less likely for someone to suspect than the names of relatives or personal affiliates…or any women that may have been in his life. Now that was an interesting topic for discussion: the thought of him being in love with someone. She had always heard her superiors talking about his complete and total lack of anything resembling emotion. She suspected that the username would be his. Now came the tough part. She would have to go through every commander's name that served under him. Hoping to find a roster, she opened the center drawer. A large Colt Anaconda .44 Magnum revolver greeted her. _What's this cannon doing in here?_ She picked it up and looked it over. On the wooden handle, there was a coat of arms emblem. The name on it was James. _He has coat of arms? His family must have a distinguished history._ Under the stainless steel magnum was a brown leather-bound note book. She opened it up and began to read the first entry.

"_I was given my first assignment as Admiral today. I have been looking forward to commanding forces to victory. My flagship is nothing short of exemplary. It is the epitome of firepower and class. Never has art and mechanics merged to __conceive__ such a tool of destruction and yet make it so magnificent. I should know, seeing as I designed her. My lovely Raven, together we shall bring respect and honor to Green Earth. We shall rule the waves as Richard rules the skies. Together, there is nothing that we cannot accomplish; no goal unachievable.__ You complete me as I complete you. I cannot imagine undertaking this responsibility without you by my side. You and I shall become inseparable. Together, we will create a new era; one which the world will never forget. My beautiful Raven, tomorrow we shall meet and forever be as one."_

Jess looked up from her reading. _Wow, he's quite the romantic. Who is this Raven? She must have been quite a woman to inspire such feeling from the cold calculating C.O. I heard about. Wait, what's this on the bottom of the page?_ Jess looked at the writing on the bottom of the page and read it out loud.

"When everyone is present, all will be revealed."

_What the hell does that mean? It sounds like something out of Biohazard._ Was he referring to a mission briefing? A family meeting? A officer conference? B this time, the sun was beginning to sink low in horizon. The room was beginning to become dark, so she turned on a light… and realized that another one of the guns hanging on the wall had the same coat of arms. Actually, they all seemed to be sporting the same emblem. They all had different names on them: Alexia, Alfred, George, Alexander; the list went on. "When everyone is present…" Jess thought out loud, "Of course!" She quickly began to look for an empty space on any of the walls, but couldn't see any. Then turned her attention to the desk…and noticed an empty rack sitting on the wall above it. "Aha. So simple, yet so clever." She reached up and placed the magnum in its space. The rack sagged from the weight of the gun, and a panel on the side of the desk opened. _When did he have the time build this? I know he used to design weapons and defense systems, but did he moonlight as a funhouse architect as well?_ The open panel revealed not only a piece of paper with the username and passwords, but also a page of his journal that was torn out. _Now we're getting somewhere._ She sat down at the desk and began to type in the needed information.

USERNAME: MAGNUM

PASSWORD: RAVEN

INVALID PASSWORD

"What?! But I had to solve a crazy puzzle to get that!" Jess said, her patience wearing thin. She looked at the paper again and noticed something on the back. It was…her name.

PASSWORD: JESS

EFFORTING…

AUTHENTICATING…

ACCESS APPROVED! WELCOME JAMES.

Jess was thinking about why he had chosen her name as a password. His security system was pretty innovative; a double password system. You enter the first password and it denies it, but you have to enter the first one in order for it to accept the other. A person could try all day to find the right password and never get it, because it resets itself if the first password is incorrect. She looked at the desktop and found an icon labeled LOGBOOK. She clicked on it and it pulled up not only reports from Seymour himself, but video footage, and pictures. Sonja would eat this stuff up. She'll probably lock herself in her room for a month in order to go through this information. There was one picture with him standing on the very front of the bow of a battleship, looking out into open sea. He was dressed in his admiral uniform with an overcoat to protect him from the brisk sea breeze. And, of course, there were his signature sunglasses. _Why are you wearing those? It doesn't even look dark outside in the picture!_ She took out a disk and inserted it into the computer and began to load the entire logbook onto the disk. After she had done this, she put the disk into her pocket and grabbed the journal entry that had been torn out of his notebook, the notebook, and a gun case, so that if someone asked her what she was doing, she would be able to say that she was retrieving something from his office for Eagle. As she grabbed the journal entry, she noticed the heading of the entry: _Concerning my new tank commander Jess._ She heard footsteps coming toward the office; probably a guard coming to see why the light was on and who was snooping around. Gathering all of the fruits of her labor and the gun case, she turned off the light and headed out the door.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

I finally got chapter 10 finished. The story is starting to kick in now. There are still some loose ends and unanswered questions. Who is Raven? Why is Henson so paranoid with Seymour? Is Seymour really the traitor who is just putting on an act? And what of Von Bolt and Kindle? It's up to you to interpret the story to and find out what's really going on.

Chapter 10

The battle was really beginning to really heat up. Sturm's forces were starting to go into overdrive to make up for the lost ground. However, whenever Sturm's troops got too bold, TA Seymour was all too quick to put them in back their place. The enemy tank units were all laying in pieces, the enemy soldiers' corpses littered the beaches, and the gun emplacements were overrun by Hawke's landing forces. Now all there was to do was to secure the fortress-like citadel overlooking the beach. However, before they could do that, they had to send what was left of Sturm's packing. That was no easy task: the dark lord had finally come to the realization that Hawke was not in command of the landing forces. His tactics were becoming far more aggressive: as if he was fighting for his life.

"It would seem that we have secured the beach for now. Admiral, Hawke, perhaps we should go ashore and personally oversee the capturing of the citadel." Seymour suggested.

"Can I come? Pleeease?" the student said as she entered the command deck.

"It can't hurt. It'll give you some firsthand experience in securing major enemy strongholds," Henson suggested.

"It's settled then. Let us proceed," Hawke said.

It was a long boat trip to the beach, and the command trio learned quickly that the student had never ridden on a boat across choppy water. By the time they had reached the beach, the young girl was dealing with a pretty serious case of sea sickness.

"You know, the waves off the coast of Green Earth can get up to five feet high on a calm day in the right areas. I used to flying over them in my boat. I could spend all day just cruising over the rough waters; just going up and down, up and down, up…and down," The advisor said knowing that he wasn't helping the little girl in the slightest. "When the water was too calm to ride the waves, I would make some large wakes, and then ride over them instead."

"Ugh, make him stop," she whimpered.

"What's the matter Lash," Henson taunted. "Don't have your sea legs yet? You were fine on the ship."

"The ship wasn't bouncing around nearly as much."

"If you're going to be sick," Hawke said, "point yourself that way. I doubt that neither I, nor my colleagues want you vomit all over any of us."

"Harsh," Henson said.

"I didn't mean it that way. I simply meant that she needed to be careful. In the future I would recommend that you take some sea sickness medication." Hawke said apologetically. He placed a comforting hand on the young girl's shoulder. She turned and smiled at him.

"Thanks Hawke."

-----

By the time they had made it to the entrance of the citadel, the place was already secured. They just had to contact Bolt and tell him that the shores were clear and he could start landing forces en masse. They were one step closer to breaking the back of the rebel forces. When they reached the command center, they all breathed easier. There was just something about standing at the control center of the enemy stronghold that seemed to confirm the victory. Lash took this opportunity to look at the enemy technology… and "acquire" some designs.

"It would seem that we will soon be seeing the last of Lord Sturm, and this rebel uprising," Seymour said with a smile

"So we can all begin to sleep easier?" Lash asked.

"So it would seem." It was then that Seymour looked at one of the security monitors in the control room. "Excuse me; there are a few matters that require my attention." As he left, Hawke threw a suspicious look towards Henson.

"Something isn't right. Seymour is up to something," Hawke said. "We should check it out."

"Agreed," Henson said. "You go on ahead; I will join you later."

"Wait. What's going on?" Lash asked.

"Seymour is a traitor. He brought us here to kill us all. He's probably going off to tell Sturm were to land his troops. It's up to us to stop him," Henson told her.

"Slow down. What makes you so sure that Seymour is trying to kill us? I simply said that he is acting strange. It could be nothing. He may just be going to smoke his pipe."

"Hawke, for a man as smart as you that is one of the most naïve, and dumbest thing I have ever heard. Do you really want to give him the chance to destroy our only shot at victory?"

"I am under orders to monitor the operation; to see that everything goes the way that Lord Von Bolt had planned it. I am not going to kill one of the most brilliant tacticians that I have ever seen simply because he says he needs to take care of some business. Like I said, it could be completely harmless."

"Ahem, can I say something?" Lash interrupted. "Listen, I don't claim to know much about Seymour, and I can honestly say that I know even less about his plans for Black Hole, but I do know that every time that I have been around him, he has been a very kind patient and honest person."

"He's just playing you. I'm telling you that he is the traitor, and I refuse to just stand here and let him destroy us. His deception has confused your young mind."

"I'll be the judge of who is deceiving who. I'm going after him and _I _will see what he is doing."

And with that, Hawke left to go after Seymour. He would see that things went according to plan: one way or another.

-----

Sonja was at her computer again desperately searching for anything related to or showcasing Seymour's tactical prowess. It just wasn't fair. She had to wait a week before she could find out more about a tactician she had been looking for her entire life. Sonja wondered what would happen when they found him. The first thing she would do would be either challenge him to a game of chess, or challenge him to a battle in the war room. In his day, he had to conduct a battle using only a crumpled map of the area, a sea chart, and weather reports. Sonja couldn't imagine having to conduct a battle under such conditions. She needed intel all the time; constant updates on the conditions of the battlefield. Imagine what Seymour would be capable of if he had satellite photography, infrared scanners, and spy cameras that could zoom to a single hair on a soldier's head. He would be invincible. She knew that if she didn't have all of this sophisticated equipment and intel, she wouldn't be able to make a single decision. She always had to double check every piece of information she ever received. Perhaps he could teach here how to operate more flexibly.

She had been everywhere on the net, and couldn't find much of anything. _Why is there no information on you? How could you have just vanished from existence?_ She then decided to go to Green Earths war archives. She didn't expect to find much, but if there was anything on this guy at all, it would be here. It pulled up a list of icons each featuring different links to different parts of the site. She found one that led to a history database, much like the Black Hole archives. After looking through the database, she finally found an icon: AIR, LAND, AND SEA- A HISTORY OF EXCELLENCE. It looked promising, so she clicked on it and it sent her to a history website. It had a list of different military branches: Royal Army, Royal Marines, Royal Air Force, Royal Navy. She clicked on the navy icon.

EASTERN FLEET OR WESTERN FLEET?

Sonja clicked on the western fleet icon. It brought up a webpage with four categories- Commanders, Ships (Decommissioned), Ships (Current Fleet), and Famous Battles. She went to the Commanders category.

SEARCH BY NAME

JAMES MAXWELL SEYMOUR

PROCESSING…PLEASE WAIT

SEARCH RESULTS: 1

FLEET COMMANDER: FOUR STAR ADMIRAL JAMES M. SEYMOUR

She clicked on the name and her computer pulled up a dossier of sorts. It listed his career achievements, ships and various other relevant pieces of information, but there wasn't much there that she didn't already know. She scrolled through his profile and found herself looking at a list of ships:

_GREEN TSUNAMI, PRIDE OF THE SWORD, EXCALIBUR, RAVEN'S WRATH, TITAN Ω…_

She found a name that intrigued her: The _Raven's Wrath_. She clicked on the name and it pulled up a picture and a profile. The ship was nothing short of spectacular. Its majestic hull was painted jet black, and there was something else about the ship that made it unique: it had a figurehead. She hadn't seen a ship with a figurehead since the exploration era. The large galleons were just as much works of art as they were tools of war. Such was the case with The R.M.S. _Ravens Wrath_. The figurehead was beautifully crafted and carved. It was a young and beautiful woman. She was wearing a robe and a hooded cloak, with outstretched angel's wings, and holding a sword and shield. The robe was a nice silver color; which nicely contrasted the black wings and cloak. Her shield was an ebony color with silver trim and had silver words engraved in it; _Vallo Pallens, Succurro Validus_: Defending the weak, Helping the strong. The sword was finely crafted as well. Its silver blade was sharpened, as if it could actually be used. The handle had a black grip with silver filigree inlaid into the handle. Overall, the ship looked as though someone took some pride in their work. It didn't look like the designer had cranked out a cheap, assembly line ship. It was quite stylish. She would show this to some of Yellow Comet's best engineers and see if they could either replicate it, or match it with a design of their own.

Sonja was no weapons expert, but as far as battleships go, this one looked mean as hell. It had a total of twelve heavy battleship cannons: two fore and aft turrets each one sporting three cannons. In addition to this impressive display of force, there were two flak turrets, six .50 cal. AA machine guns, and, though the picture didn't show it, the profile said that the ship also had four torpedo launch tubes. As far as size goes, It was a large, intimidating beast of a ship; yet not so large that its size interfered with mobility or versatility. She also noticed a certain angle to the ship's hull, giving it a more sleek and majestic appearance. Overall, she was impressed that someone not only designed a craft of such versatility (the ability to fire both directly and indirectly on sea units, in addition to the flak cannons and AA guns granting direct and indirect firepower against air units was quite ingenious), but managed to do so and still make it look classy. She would have to ask daddy about getting one just like it.

"So that was his flagship. I bet he had lot of fun with that thing."

-----

If there are any questions, complaints, or comments, feel free to send them to me and I will address them the best I can, but I won't answer any spoiler questions; not that any of you are _that _concerned about the outcome of the story or anything.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Chapter 11

Jess was sitting at her desk looking through the journal she had found in Seymour's desk. It had several logs that didn't have much to do with anything important. Most of them were simply daily reviews of the missions he had led and various personal logs he had felt that he needed to write down. She wasn't looking for anything in particular; though she was interested in finding out more about this "Raven" she had heard about. She hadn't found anything more than a few mentions here and there. Finally giving up on the journal, she turned her attention to the entry that had been ripped out: the one about her. _I wonder what he had said about me. Nothing bad, I hope._ She unfolded the paper and began to read it.

"_Concerning__ my new tank commander Jess_

_I have been in command of the Green Earth Western Fleet for only a year now, and am already finding it difficult to get good subordinates. Or so I thought before I met Jess. She is a very talented commander, specializing in __armored warfare. But there is something else about the red head that intrigues me. Her skill in tank warfare rivals my own. It is as if she too has the ability to detect weaknesses in enemy equipment. Currently, she is only a squad leader, but I have sent an application to the war committee requesting permission to issue a promotion. If it is approved, Jess will join my command staff. From there, I will watch her from afar. She has great potential, and a strong spirit. I am confident that she will not disappoint __the War Committee, Green Eart__h__, or I__. Who knows? She may even become part of my personal command crew. I would take great joy in mentoring the young woman;__ s__he has some spirit and attitude__ that I would enjoy having around the command center."_

-----

Seymour was standing in an emergency airport. There was an evacuation seaplane docked in a waterway. There were some metal crates lying around the area. Seymour leaned against one of them and pulled out his pipe from his coat pocket. As he stood there, he checked his Lugers. He wanted to make sure they were both fully loaded and were ready to fire. Unless he missed his guess, Hawke and Henson will come looking for him. They will want to know where he was and what he is up to. Putting his guns back in their hiding spots, he looked around the airport and tried to take in every detail. There were some stairs that lead to a catwalk which reached over to the other side of the airport. Below the catwalk was some very deep cold water. That made him think of home. Off the cost of Green Earth, the water was quite brisk. No, actually it was freezing. He missed his home. When this nightmare with Sturm was over, he would go back, and never leave. He missed his home, his family, and most of all, his precious Raven. He would make seeing her again a priority.

-----

After Hawke left, a silence fell over the room. It was just Henson and Lash. Lash didn't like the way Henson was attacking Seymour's character. She respected the TA, and felt he was trustworthy, but then again she didn't know anything about him. He had an interesting accent that hinted toward him being from Green Earth, but she didn't know anymore than that.

"He was just trying to get you to trust him. He is working for Sturm. I bet that he is contacting him this minute," Henson said.

"You're wrong; he would never betray Black Hole. If there is a traitor, it is probably Hawke."

"Why would Hawke, a native of Black Hole betray his country? The answer: he wouldn't. Seymour is the traitor, and I'll hear no more of your misconceptions. Now Hawke is going to confront Seymour, place him under arrest, and take him to face his punishment for treason. I should go and help. I look forward to yanking those sunglasses off his arrogant face and looking him in his cowardly eyes. The look on his face will be delicious when he finds that we learned about his plot." Henson left the room to go find his mortal enemy.

-----

Hawke entered the service elevator and pressed 'A' for the service airport. He saw what looked like part of a seaplane on the security monitor, so he assumed that Seymour had gone there. As the elevator started down, he pulled out his Mauser Red 9 and double checked that it was loaded. He also checked his pockets for three extra ammo magazines. He was afraid of what he would have to do. The TA had been what Hawke tried to be: a mystery. Hawke was constantly trying to keep his intentions to himself, but they were slowly beginning to leak out. He knew what he had to do. He didn't want to. The advisor was too good of a man to simply shoot dead and leave rotting on the cold steel floor, but he was a liability: one that could cost Von Bolt everything. The lord had contacted him in the middle of the night just before they went ashore. His words still burned Hawke's ears as he ran them through his mind once again.

"Kill him WHEEZE dead. Don't give him a chance to ruin our plans, HACK WHEEZE don't hesitate. Do it for Black Hole!"

Hawke didn't relish the thought of having to do this, but it was for the best. When he got there, he would shoot out the security camera so the admiral and the young girl wouldn't see it.

-----

Seymour was thinking of what role Blue Moon would play in these deadly mind games. Sturm is one to prepare for such things in advanced. He had probably already spoken with Olaf and set up a payment schedule. His concerns then drifted back to his home: Green Earth. For years, he had worked behind the scenes in order to secure everyone's freedom. Then the time came for him to stand up and defend his fellow countrymen directly. He poured everything he had into his job. He always wanted to serve the country that he grew up in; patrolling the seas he was raised on. It was his life's work to defend his land. But he was betrayed. Not by mutineers. Not by one he called friend. It was the very country he lived to die for that turned its back on him. But he wasn't one to hold a grudge. Even now, he risked life and limb to protect Green Earth from a madman that would bring about the end of the free world. Even now, as they turn their back on him, he fights the battles that they can't just so that the people of Green Earth can sleep soundly; even if for only one more night. He has woken up to the sounds of cannonfire, bombs, rockets, and machine guns many a night, and it was not something that he wished for the children of Green Earth. They deserved better than to live in fear of the open sea and skies. Even if they didn't want his help, he would give his life willingly to save them. That was a responsibility he undertook when they pinned that fourth star on his chest… and he accepted it with pride.

Everyone was suspecting the other of treason, and were more than ready to tear each other's throats out. He couldn't help but feel that there may have been a misunderstanding. Maybe there was a way that wouldn't result in the death of Hawke or Henson. Neither were pleasant to be around, but he didn't with them any ill will. However, there was the communiqué from Sturm. Some of the crewmen overheard what sounded like Hawke speaking with Lord Krauserhauff Von Bolt. Further investigation of the signal showed that it was from one of Sturm's underground bunkers about three kilometers away. Sturm was no doubt using his voice manipulator to converse with Hawke in disguise. Sturm wanted him dead. This didn't bother Seymour in the slightest. For the better part of his career, he was shot at. Enemy planes would swoop down on his command deck and fill the room full of gunfire. He had been shot in the arm, leg, shoulder, and knee; the most painful of all. He had even more near misses. On more than one occasion, he had the very cap shot clean off his head. He was used to people wanting him dead. That is why he became such a proficient marksman. He wasn't sure of what kind of firsthand experience Hawke had with having to face mortality. The sound of an elevator opening brought back his focus. Tapping his pipe against a metal crate, he pulled out one of his Lugers from its holster.

"Alright sweetheart, lets you and I get the drop on Hawke. It's time to get this show started."

-----

Whoa; things are starting to turn ugly here. I'll be taking bets on who is the last one standing if you're interested. Only joking; I wouldn't really be that stupid. Who is going to win this fight? Did Hawke know that he was talking to Sturm? Hmmm…


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Chapter 12

Jess was surprised at just how much of Seymour's interest she had attracted. She wondered why he never said anything to her. He must have had his reasons; still it would have been nice if she had known this a lot sooner. Well, that's two things she had looked at that had come up inconclusive of both this "Raven" she had heard about, and the location of his home. She then decided to take a look at the gun case. She set it up on her desk and opened it. Another magnum revolver was sitting in the case her. _Geez, he sure __likes big guns. It must be a guy__ thing._ She pulled it out of its case and looked it over. This one was a .454 magnum, and it had the same coat of arms that the .44 magnum. However, there was something different about the emblem. It looked as if it could be removed. So she looked for a space where she could pry it off. She finally found a spot where she could fit a pen under the emblem. The emblem came off the gun handle. Looking the emblem over, she found a small button on the side of it. When she pressed it, a strip of metal with key-like teeth on it popped out the other side. With a smile, she suddenly realized what she had in her possession. She overheard one of Seymour's aides talking about a strange room that Seymour went into every now and then. The door had his family's coat of arms on the front. No one really knew what was in there, but there were plenty of rumors. Some claimed that it was a secret weapons lab where he developed technological terrors. Others claimed that it was a secret base in which he conducted wars halfway across the planet. One last rumor said that it was a secret interstellar radio where he contacted extraterrestrial life forms. Now she would be able to see what was in that room with her own eyes. She was excited about what she would find in there.

-----

As the elevator came to a stop, Hawke placed his hand on his holster to make sure the strap was undone so that he could draw his weapon quickly if he had to. He stepped out of the elevator as the doors opened and found himself in the middle of a seaplane hangar. There was a catwalk going across the waterway that lead to a large steel door. What lay beyond that was a mystery, but Hawke wasn't there to explore. He began to walk forward checking behind the many steel crates lying around the airport. _He sure does know how to pick a good spot. Everything in life is location, location, location._ He looked behind various crates and checked for the elusive TA. Either Hawke missed his guess, and the TA was not here, or he was damn good a sneaking around. The floor was composed of steel panels; the kind that no matter how quiet you are, you can't help but make a clanging sound with every step. This would make sneaking up on the TA difficult.

"You are late."

Behind him, Hawke heard a clicking sound: the sound of a gun being cocked. Despite being startled, Hawke swung around, pulling his gun out in the process, and found himself looking down the barrel of a silver Luger pistol. He aimed his gun up to the TA's face as he finished his quick 180 turn. Hawke knew that he had blown his chances of stopping Seymour, but at least he could get some information before he was shot dead.

"Why are you doing this? What has Black Hole done to you?"

"Nothing; and they never will if I have anything to do with it."

"What do you mean? Why do you want Sturm to win?"

"Sturm won't win. I won't allow it."

"But if you don't want him to win, why are you betraying us? We want to defeat Sturm too."

"Do you now. Then why did you and Sturm have a discussion concerning my execution if you want to defeat him? And don't insult my intelligence by saying that you were talking to Von Bolt. I have irrefutable evidence to the contrary."

"But that _was _Von Bolt. I heard his voice, his wheezing, and his hacking. It was him for sure."

"I don't need to tell you that Lord Sturm has a voice manipulator. It would have taken him little time or effort to simulate Von Bolt's voice and chronic respiratory failures. It may be enough to fool Henson, but not I."

"I'm telling the truth. I don't care whether you believe me or not. It was Bolt; I know him well enough to recognize his voice."

"How well _do _you know him? The only time that I recall you spending time with him was when Henson picked you for this assignment. So just how well acquainted are you?"

"Well, I…"

"As I thought."

-----

Henson had deactivated the security cameras to the hangar and had cut the power to the elevator. That stupid little brat wouldn't be able to get to her mentor. He wanted to leave the cameras on, so she could get a good look at his bullet ridden corpse, but then there would be evidence of this occurrence that could make life difficult. His plan was simple. Let Hawke and Seymour battle it out. Seymour would more than likely win because Hawke, with all his skill and knowledge, had very little combat training or experience. That is because he was trained with the new methods. Commanders are just that. They need to sit in a nice comfortable chair safely behind reinforced glass and armored plating with an ice cold drink or a hot cup of coffee and send countless men and women to their deaths. Seymour, however, was trained in the older methods. Just because you're a commander doesn't mean you can't pick up a gun and pick a few enemies off. Seymour had some combat training and some marksmanship training. Henson had spent some years as a Black Marine before transferring back to the Navy for his Admiralty. _This is going to be a fun fight between Seymour and I. _Henson reached into his boot and pulled out his old field knife. He thought about the best way to kill Seymour: a bullet between the eyes, a knife in the heart, or a saber through the chest, pinning him to the wall.

-----

"I overheard your discussion," Hawke said. "With Lash concerning the unmanned monitor station. You said that Sturm felt threatened by Henson."

"No, I said that Sturm felt that Henson was a threat. There is a difference."

"What did you mean by that?"

"The statement is self explanatory. The logic should be as well."

"How can Henson be a threat if Henson is working for Sturm?"

"A threat can be many things: a danger, a liability, a loose end, the list goes on. Sturm feels that Henson isn't truly on his side anymore than he is on Von Bolt's side. That sector fleet that we 'accidentally' ran into was no accident. We were supposed to meet up with them. However, Henson arrived earlier than expected and the sector fleet mistook us for another landing force. They were just as surprised to see us as we were with them. However, it was not surprise like we were launching a surprise attack. No, it was more like we were not expected that early. Henson was supposed to meet up with the sector fleet a day later than he did. He would exchange 'pleasantries' and trade blows with them for a day. He would then fall back to a safe position and wait for reinforcements. By the time he had licked his wounds and returned to the field, Sturm would have many units in hiding to capture us all as soon as you captured the citadel. But Henson is keeping his options open by working for Bolt part time and working for Sturm part time so that no matter who wins, Henson has a place to go. He secures his future by fighting for the winning side."

"Then it would seem that Henson is the traitor. Look me in the eyes: are these the eyes of a liar? Don't look at me with those sunglasses. Look at me eye to eye."

Seymour sighed and hesitated, but the dark sunglasses were slowly and reluctantly removed. Hawked felt a slight wave of shock when the TA looked at him. The TA had a gaze that stared into your soul. His heterochromia iridium didn't help in the slightest: Seymour's right eye stared at him with a cool blue, while his left eye shone with a fiery red that burned in to Hawke's soul.

"What's the matter, Hawke?"

Hawke returned his gaze and said again that he had nothing to do with the whole mess. The TA seemed to believe him, oddly enough. A look of realization suddenly came across his face. "Then that must mean…blast! I have never made a mistake in my life and I pick now to break that tradition!"

"Wait, now you believe me? I'm not complaining, but just like that?"

"There many who can decieve with thier demeanor, but there are few who have 'liar's eyes'. I do not have them, so I wear these sunglasses to keep people from knowing what I am thinking. At any rate, I do apologize for suspecting you."

"Don't worry. I suspected you of treason as well. It is Henson that we should look for."

"Not Henson. Blue Moon."

"Blue Moon?"

"We had scout check the area out for troops, correct? And they reported no Black Hole activity, correct?"

"Yes."

"No _Black Hole_ activity. They never said anything about _other _factions that may be in the area, correct? Now tell me: whose scouts where those?"

"They were part of Henson's Advanced Recon and Special Ops. Force."

"So if they were Henson's ARSOF troopers, who would they report to? Henson. And who manipulated the reports? The one and only. Which means he is probably expecting us to tear each other apart. Well, we shall just play along for a little while. Here are my ideas."


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Chapter 13

Lash waited patiently in the command center of the enemy citadel for one of the three commanding officers to return. While she waited, she opened up the notebook to take another stab at inventing weapons. She looked at the Ragnorok project to see how the TA had designed the super laser. What she found was quite confusing. The giant laser cannon was full of mirrors, lenses, and wiring. She decided to make something simpler. Instead of doing something that hardcore, she tried for versatility and practicality; something that could fire a powerful laser in four different directions. So she started by drawing the top; a typical four way. Then she drew the side view. Now came the hard part: drawing the components. She flipped back to the 'death ray' to look at how it was put together. She noticed a light source was needed to produce the laser. So she drew a four way flashlight in the middle of the laser quad cannon. Looking back at the TA's design, she also noticed that she needed some lenses in order to bend the light, as Seymour had noted on the page. It needed a convex lens in order to focus the light into a small, yet heavily concentrated beam. So she drew in three convex lenses in each laser cannon 'barrel' to create a beam. Upon looking back at TA's designs, she found that she also needed some concave lenses to give the laser some size. Without them, the lasers would simply cut into enemies, without causing any real damage to enemy units. So she put in some concave lenses to give the laser a broader beam. Finally, she had her first original design. Okay, so she did 'borrow' some ideas from Seymour, but that is why he gave her the notebook. She was surprised at just how easy that came to her. She wondered how she would be able to build something like this until the TA's words came drifting back to her. _Just work your ideas out on paper. Then you can worry about building them._ She had plenty of time to spare, so she flipped to a new page and began again.

-----

Lord Bolt was sitting in his office, his mind still preoccupied with who the traitor may be. As he stared at his desktop milling names and ideas as to what their respective motives may be, his aide, Kindle, entered the room.

"What is it (WHEEZE)?"

"Lord Bolt, we have received notification from _The Undying Storm _that indicates that there was a received transmission."

"(COUGH) who was it (WHEEZE) from?"

"It was from you."

A silence fell over the room.

"What?"

"Apparently, you sent a transmission ordering Hawke to 'eliminate' TA Seymour."

"(COUGH) I did no such thing (WHEEZE). There must be some (WHEEZE) mistake."

"Nearby crewmen claim that it was your voice. They even recall hearing your labored breathing."

"Impossible."

"What should we do?"

Von Bolt thought a minute. He then let out a growl of frustration

"STURM! (WHEEZE) This is all your doing!"

"My lord! Please calm down!"

"Kindle (COUGH), I want increased security measures (WHEEZE) around the capital. I also want more patrols (WHEEZE) in the headquarters (COUGH)"

"It will be done my lord"

"(WHEEZE) Let us how well Sturm handles my (COUGH) elite security force."

-----

Captain Grant had been placed in command of the fleet until Henson returned. He had been waiting a considerable time and was starting to get bored. He was hoping for _anything _to happen to break the monotony.

"Captain, I am picking up something on radar."

"What, Confederate Black Hole?"

"No sir, this is a new contact. I am picking up what seems to be a Blue Moon ship."

"A Blue Moon ship? Are you certain?"

"Aye sir. One Blue Moon battleship approaching from the northeast bearing four-seven-three mark two. Traveling speed is about twenty knots. He seems to be a loner."

"He is quite a long way from home. What is he doing this far out of Blue Moon territory?"

"Sir! I am picking up more Blue Moon ships approaching from the same vector. It's an escort convoy."

"What all do they have?"

"I am reading three battleships, two cruisers, two submarines, and three landing crafts, sir."

"Radio this into headquarters. Tell _The Shroud_ that we have guests incoming. Inform the ground forces to expect some landing forces."

"Sir! They're assuming attack formations!"

"Red Alert! All crew to your stations! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill! Code Three!"

Warning lights flashed red and alarms sounded as the crew hurried to their stations. And Grant was taking back what he said about wanting something to happen. The TA could have handled this fleet blindfolded. But he was not the TA. He braced himself as the battle began.

-----

"The time has come for me to do what I came here to do." Seymour said. "And there is nothing that you can do to get in my way."

"I will fight you to the end." Hawke replied. "I will not let you win!"

Henson was just about to walk into the room where the heated showdown was taking place. _Hawke is still alive? Why hasn't Seymour finished him already?_ Henson pulled out his .38 revolver and quietly stepped into the room, hoping that neither of the two would notice him. It was time to deal with them both.

-----

Hawke and Seymour had been playing this charade for five minutes. Finally, Seymour noticed Henson slinking out of the shadows out of the corner of his eye. Henson slowly made his way to a position where he could use both his gun and saber.

"I'm sorry Hawke, but you lose."

"Sorry Seymour, but you both lose." Henson said stepping into view. He leveled his gun at Seymour's head and pointed his saber in Hawke's face. "Drop your gun Hawke." Hawke slowly complied. "Now it's your turn Seymour. Drop the gun." Seymour placed the gun on the ground.

"You're both a pair of weak minded fools." Henson said lowering his pistol.

"I may be a fool, but you're an idiot." Seymour said. "For only an idiot would bring a knife to a gunfight." And with a swiftness that Hawke couldn't believe, Seymour pulled out his other Luger and fired off three shots. One of the shots hit Henson in the shoulder, causing him to drop his saber. The other hit him in the chest causing him to stumble over backwards. The last bullet sailed harmlessly through where Henson's head have been seconds earlier. Seymour then dove behind a metal crate, grabbing the first Luger in mid-dive. As Henson fell over backwards, he fired a shot from his revolver that hit Hawke in the knee. Hawke ducked behind a nearby crate and reached for his pistol. Just as he grabbed it, Henson fired another shot hitting Hawke in the arm.

"Are you alright?" Seymour asked.

"I'll be fine."

"Go get Lash. I'll deal with Henson."

With a nod, Hawke slipped behind another stack of crates and headed for the elevator. A quick glance showed that the elevator had no power; the up and down arrows weren't lit up like before. With a sigh of frustration, Hawke headed for the door marked "stairs". Meanwhile, Seymour stayed under cover and re-evaluated his situation. His left handgun had only nine rounds, whereas his right gun had a full twelve. He had two spare magazines for each gun which gave him a total of sixty-nine rounds to finish off Henson. He calculated that Henson had about fifty-nine rounds left for his revolver. Seymour had an advantage over Henson. It took far longer for Henson to reload his revolver than it did for Seymour's Lugers. All Seymour had to do was bait Henson into wasting six rounds and Seymour could get in some shots without fear of return fire. And if he couldn't kill Henson with sixty-nine rounds, then he would have to do things the fun, old fashioned way.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

Things are starting to fall apart. This is demostrated by the quick switching from scene to scene, so most of the segments will be somewhat brief. It's almost finished, so enjoy the action and suspense of the last chapters. If you would like a sequel to this story because there are some unanswered questions, let me know. Otherwise, I may start on a totally knew story.

Chapter 14

Jess walked down the corridor and through the door that lead to Seymour's office. She looked around and tried to find the door she heard so much about. The only thing that had Seymour's coat of arms, however, was a part of the wall that protruded about four feet out. She didn't see any keyholes, doorknobs, or anything that resembled a door in any way. Thinking back about the gun rack and desk, Jess remembered that Seymour was quite crafty and effective at hiding things in such a way that the average person wouldn't be able to find them using conventional means. Letting out a sigh Jess started to look around. "Time to start thinking outside the box." She began to look around the room in order to find anything that looked like it could be manipulated in any way. She looked at the desk and noticed that one of the drawers had a lock on it. "Well, it's worth a shot." Jess took the key and put it in the lock. Oddly enough, the key turned and opened the drawer. Sliding out the drawer, she saw a box of .454 ammo and a note. Jess looked at the note. The note was full of more cryptic clues and cloak and dagger puzzles for her to sort through. It was a good thing that she told the guards that she would be working in here; she was in for a long haul and was probably going to need a drink afterward. Something with a little kick.

-----

"Engine room, what is our status?" Grant said.

"Hull integrity is at fifty-eight percent. If we take three or four more hits like the last one, then we'll be down for the count. We have some serious leaks in the aft compartments. I recommend sealing the bulkheads. That will give you some more time to work with, but it won't stop the ship from going down. The engines are flooded and circuit breakers are beginning to trip. I'm afraid we're dead in the water. Give it another forty minutes and the targeting and firing controls will go offline. I would say that the ship has about three or four hours left before she hits the bottom."

"Three or four hours? That's not a lot of time." The situation looked pretty bleak. They were on a sinking ship. They had nowhere to go. _The Shroud _was still in pretty good condition, but she wouldn't last long on her own. Grant was forced to give an order that he never hoped he would have to give.

"All hands, abandon ship. Repeat abandon ship"

Meanwhile, _The Shroud_ was keeping the Blue Moon battleships pretty busy. The command ship had to fall back to lick its wounds, but its flanking support ship was pressing the attack and preventing any finishing blows. Without the Admiral, Field Marshal, or TA, the battle was lost from the moment the first Blue Moon ship sailed into view.

-----

Lash was sitting quietly working on some new design for a Black Hole tank, when suddenly a battle damaged Hawke entered the room.

"What in world happened to _you_?" she asked in shock.

"There is no time to explain. We must return to the ship and get out of here."

"Where's Seymour?"

"He stayed behind so that we could escape. Now hurry, get your things. We must leave. They will be here shortly…"

Just has Hawke was finishing his sentence, the doors burst open and a squad of Blue Moon Spetznaz troopers surrounded them. "Put your hands where I can see them! You!" the team captain barked at Lash, "step away from the table! Hands behind your head!" They both complied. "You're coming with us. We have orders to bring back any Black Hole personnel, though we were not told in what condition. If you behave yourselves, then we won't have any problems."

"Where are you taking us?" Hawke asked.

"You'll see when we get there."

-----

Seymour and Henson had been popping off shots at each other for the better part of an hour. Seymour could tell that Henson was running low on ammo: he was starting to pick his shots a little better. Seymour still had one and a half magazines left for his Lugers. Seymour was also making his way up to Henson's location. Henson seemed to have some specialized combat training, as if he was an ex marine, but he also seemed quite a bit out of practice. Seymour had never served as an infantryman, but had learned the hard way that it pays to be quick and quiet in the line of fire. He was just about on top of Henson when Henson decided to try to get the drop on him. The only problem was that Seymour was almost on top of Henson's location and the sort of collided. Henson was out of ammo at this point and was ready to do Seymour in with is knife. As Seymour was moving to find a spot to duck behind, he noticed a Blue Moon Battleship out of the open end of the hangar. "Great, they're already here." He knew that he could handle Henson in a straight fight. He also knew that he may stand a chance against regular Blue Moon infantry. However, He calculated that Blue Moon would send in their Spetznaz first. The Spetznaz rivaled Sensei's 182nd Airborne Infantry Division and Sami's 209th Mobile Infantry Assault Battalion. Simply put, the chances of him dealing with ten highly trained and conditioned Spetznaz troopers was not good. So, knowing full well that Henson no longer posed the greater threat, Seymour decided to evade Blue Moon capture and began to run across the catwalk that headed for a large steel door. Seeing that Seymour was going to escape, Henson took off after him. Seymour was almost across, while Henson was almost there, when the large steel door was blown right off its hinges by explosive charges. Two Spetznaz troopers stormed through the door, still shrouded by smoke, with their AK-47's at the ready. They saw Seymour charging at them with two guns in hand and opened fire. Seeing this theatrical outpouring of hostility, Seymour quickly hit the deck and dove under the line of fire. Henson, however, was not so quick, and soon became the unlucky recipient of a hail of gunfire. After realizing that they had just killed one of Sturm's men, the ceased fire and turned their attention to Seymour.

"Drop the weapons! Now!"

Seymour turned to face them. He was not happy. After all his best efforts, he had failed. He had failed his last mission for Green Earth. He began to think about his option and only one thought crossed his mind. _You can't evade death forever._ He quickly turned and ran for the guardrail of the catwalk.

"Freeze! Or we'll open fire!"

Seymour jumped from the catwalk onto the guardrail, and with a quick salute back to the troopers, dove in to the crushing black abyss that lay below. The troopers ran to the catwalk and looked over the edge, but they saw nothing but the dark, unforgiving waters.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or mentioned in this draft, and am most certainly not making any profit off of it.

And now, it's time for the final chapter. Like I said earlier, if you want a sequel to this draft, let me know. I didn't want to have a very long and drawn out story: such can be tedious to read. However, the story isn't fully told yet. There are still some mysteries that are unsolved. If you have any complaints, questions, or comments, send them in. Until next time, enjoy!

Chapter 15

The Blue Moon soldiers sifted through the citadel and beaches, rounding up the final remnants of Bolt's landing forces. As the soldiers returned to their respective craft, Hawke and Lash were escorted to a small dingy. The team captain instructed them to get in the front of the little boat. As they set off, the waves started to make the craft bounce around. The dingy took a bad bounce, and the black notebook that Lash was holding flew out of her arms and landed in the cold waters.

"Ahhh! No! No! No! Stop! We gotta go back and get that book!" Lash screamed.

The boat swung around and the team captain scooped up the note book. Lash quickly snatched the book out of his hands, and opened it to see what the designs looked like. The first design, the Mega Tank print was damaged beyond any recognition. The ink was smeared and the paper was coming apart. The Neo Tank was salvageable, but difficult to read. In fact, just about all the designs save for her four-way laser. She would have to redesign them from scratch. The only thing that Seymour had designed that survived the dip in the ocean was the Tyranium Pipeline, The Neo Tank, the PDC's/TC's, but they were still damaged. When they dried, she would be able to redraw them. She remembered the other designs and could probably recreate them from memory, but that would take a long time to do. She was crushed. Seymour trusted her with his notebook and she ruined it. She made a promise, right then and there. She would do the best she could to invent weapons worthy of Seymour's notebook.

She looked at the Blue Moon soldiers. They seemed to know something that they weren't saying.

"Where's Seymour?"

The soldiers looked at each other. "Who?"

"Seymour."

"I believe that one or two of my men mentioned a man with two handguns, a pair of sunglasses, and a black coat. Is that who you are talking about?"

"What happened to him?"

The soldiers looked at each other and thought about what to say. "There was another man in there shooting at him. Just as they burst into the room, the other man shot him and he fell over the guard rail. All the men heard gunshots, and opened fire on the man who was shooting."

Hawke looked at the captain. "Are you sure that was the way that it happened?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Just asking."

-----

The door to Von Bolt's room swung open and Confederate infantry stormed into the room.

"What is (WHEEZE) this?!"

Sturm entered the room with two troopers flanking him. One had Kindle in cuffs and drug her into the room.

"Sturm!"

"Hello Bolt. I'm here to relieve you of your duties."

"My security force…"

"Will not be joining us. Don't worry; my men have taken _good_ care of them."

"What do you want (COUGH)?"

"I want Black Hole."

"I will never (WHEEZE) give it to you!"

"You are in no position to make demands. I have your capital in the palm of my hand." Sturm gestured with his hand. "As well as your life." One of his troopers raised their rifle and stuck it in Bolt's face.

"Nothing lasts forever. Eventually, even your pathetic existence will end. I know that is what you fear most." He gestured to the trooper again, and the rifle was removed from Bolts face. "But I will not end you. You and your little pet here will be banished to the Omega Wastelands, where you will live the rest of your miserable days in exile. Take them away!"

"Yes sir!"

As they left, Sturm sat down at Bolt's desk. He had finally won. It was over. No. His plan was just beginning.

-----

Months later, on every newspaper headline, there was bad news. A man was walking and read the headlines.

WORLD AT WAR! ORANGE STAR AND BLUE MOON AT ENDS! ORANGE STAR C.O. ANDY ATTACKS GREEN EARTH! YELLOW COMET PREPARES FOR ORANGE STAR ATTACK!

The man simply laughed to himself. As he turned to walk away, he muttered, "As I thought". Putting on a pair of dark sunglasses, he disappeared into the morning fog.


End file.
